Beyond Salvation
by Croutonic Sarcasm
Summary: Yaoi; B/A and BB/L. Beyond Birthday was just a copy-- just a Backup. But that just isn't enough for him, not when he was tempted by his schizophrenic hallucinations. After all, to become great, people must do great things.
1. Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

((Sorry this is so short, it's more of a prologue than a real chapter, but chapter two is up too.))

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

Perhaps it was yesterday. Perhaps it was last week, or even years before. I suppose I shall never know, but I can recount the tale all the same. I shall tell you the tragic tale of Beyond Birthday, known more often as BB.

You've heard of the LABB Murder Cases, haven't you? When Beyond Birthday murdered three people in cold blood, simply attempting to make a case that L could not solve. He failed, and is now dead by Kira's hands. However, he was not always the psychotic killer known to the public today. Once, he was just a lonely boy, looking for someone to take care of him after his mother died. But I am getting ahead of myself. Already I give too much away. Forgive my digression. Now, we shall begin this story on the day young Beyond Birthday first came to Wammy's Orphanage, a crisp autumn day.

Beyond had been terrified, cold in his large, gray hooded seatshirt and tattered black shorts. He had been living on the streets in England after his mother's murder, and it showed in the ragged state of his clothing. His blond, almost white shoulder length hair mismatched horribly with his crimson eyes. He looked rather feminine, actually. His hair covered his left eye, and he would allow it to hide his face when he was scared or unsure.

He had acted very courtesously, nicer than I had by far. I was an arrogant eleven year old, the world's leading detective already, and thought I ruled the earth. To me, my word was law, and I, as L, unfortunately took advantage of it far too often. Again, I get off topic. Back to Beyond.

Roger had taken him inside and gave him his code name, Backup, or B for short. After that, Beyond met A. Somehow, he knew A's true name: Andrew Jameson. At that time, A was not yet suicidal, but he was very sensitive.

A had large, kind green eyes and plain, brown hair. His hair style was rather like Yagami Raito's, but longer and more wild. He tended to allow his hair obscure his face, so he would feel less threatened.

I believe that he was beginning to question his ability to be my successor, and certainly began acting much less confidently from that time on, so his depression could have started then. I am unsure. But I'm sure it was a blow to his pride when he, ten, had a new classmate vying for the same position as himself, but two years his junior. Once A met Beyond, however, he took an instant liking to the rougher boy and became, in effect, his shadow. Anywhere you saw Beyond, A was sure to be there.

Beyond, or B, as I shall now refer to him as, then met myself. I look much the same as I do now: I wear a white long-sleeve shirt, loose blue jeans, and my black hair is sometimes described as 'defying gravity'. I say it merely sweeps to the left into spikes and is simply very, very thick.

I acted much the same as now as well, in mannerisms at least. however, like I mentioned before, I was quite arrogant and it showed in my attitude. I believe my attitude could be called 'know-it-all'. Yes, I believe that's what B told me.

I met B, who immediately took a great liking of myself. He even announced that he would be just like me what he was older. I asked him why, and he gave a reason I cannot dispute, even to this day: "You found the guy that killed my Mum and made him pay," he said.

I had simply nodded and continued in my way, having fulfilled my obligatory visit to the new arrival to Wammy's Orphanage. The next noteworthy event in B's life shall not be told in this manner. I managed to get ahold of B before he died, and in one of his few lucid moments, I got a full account of his life from him. I shall continue this in B's view, starting when he was approximately fourteen years of age.


	2. Chapter Two: Hidden

((Here's the second chapter! I hope you all like it and I'm open to constructive comments. Thanks!))

Chapter 2: Hidden

B looked over to A in the classroom, admiring his profile, autumn leaves falling outside. A had grown older nearly now, and looked much more attractive. His eyes were a limpid green, and held kindness in their depths beyond any had ever seen. He was always seen with B still, who would protect him from the others that mocked either of them.

B, by this time, had changed his hair. He had rather liked L's hair and had gotten Roger to dye and cut it in a similar manner. However, B's version was slightly more wild with more spikes and volume. He took to wearing a pair of loose blue jeans, though not as loose as L's, and a white long-sleeve shirt. He too detested shoes, but wore a pair of sandals when forced to.

A, for his part, rather enjoyed wearing clothes with long sleeves to cover his hands with. It always made him look younger and had the extra benefit of covering the deep scars of his wrist. Yes, A was cutting. He had started to when he was fifteen, getting depressed. Nobody ever quite understood why, but it was believed that he felt as if he were not good enough for anyone.

B shook his head, pulling himself from his reverie of staring at A. "Can't do that." He muttered, turning his attention to the smartboard at the front of the classroom. _Can't do what?_ A small voice inquired in a smooth tone.

_ Go away!_ B demanded. _You don't exist!_

_ Oh, but I do._ Another voice said, sounding silky and rough at the same time. It was a voice that would make anyone who heard it cringe and cower. It was _his_ voice, that one without a name. _And you know me very well, B._

That voice stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall nonchalantly. His bare foot was against the wall, balancing on the other and his arms were crossed. He looked the same as B himself. However, not even the crossed arms could cover the scarlet stains on the snow-white shirt, and no distance could take away the insane look in his crimson eyes. This voice, the nameless, scared B far more than the other.

B shivered, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end; he did not like that voice. There was another too, and he called himself Gabriel, but he wasn't there right then. He was busy doing something else. B never saw Gabriel, however, he only heard him.

B tried focusing on his work, the teacher done speaking and sitting down to give the students work time. _Oh, but B, come on. It's not like he wouldn't want you, right?_ Beelzebub whispered. B didn't like Beelzebub, but he especially didn't like _him_, the nameless one. Beelzebub stood beside him, dressed, as always, in aristocratic eighteenth century gothic style, currently a perfectly tailored suit with tails. _You want him, don't you?_

B was forced to concede; he did want A. He stared at the blank paper in front of him, his mind preoccupied. That would be why he never saw A looking at him with the same longing stare. _Then take him._ Beelzebub hissed slyly, bending down to murmur in his ear, the quiet shuffle of the thick black cloth he wore sounding loud in the silent classroom and the platinum blond hair swishing to cover his onyx eyes.

_ Why, yes, B, let's take him. We could do such delicious things, see the beautiful blood spill..._ said the other, looking bright eyed at the possibility. B immediately back tracked mentally. _No, no! I won't!_ He refused, going so far as to physically shake his head. Some other students saw and snickered, one going so far as to make the universal crazy sign, waving his finger in a circle by his temple, but B didn't notice.

Beelzebub and _he_ began getting louder, drowning everything out. There was no sound but their voices, the silky and rough combining into a horrendous cacophony of sound, hurting B's ears. _He_ got closer, talking louder and eventually shushing Beelzebub. _He_ was in control, _he_ controlled who spoke and when.

_ Come now..._ _he_ said consolingly. _I don't mean to harm you. I'm simply trying to get what we both want._ _He_ smirked, a terrifying sight; the sharp teeth were speckled with red.

_ It's only jam, it's only jam..._ B assured himself, closing his eyes and trying to will them away, fear curling in his stomach. He'd never managed to will them away, no matter how hard he tried, but he would continue to try.

_ He_ laughed. _Jam? Oh, no, no, no. Why would I want jam? I want the true red, the scarlet, sweet blo-_ _NO!_ B interrupted _him_.

B stood up, muttering a quick excuse of not feeling well as he grabbed his things hurriedly and all but ran out of the room. He ran to his quarters, the room he shared with A. He dumped his things on the floor, locked the door and flopped on the bed, clutching at his head painfully. _Leave me alone!_

A, back in the classroom, watched worriedly as B ran out of the room, the teacher bewildered. He waited until the bell rang for lunch, only a half hour away, then walked to the room he shared with B. He knocked on the door. "B? B? What's wrong?"

He asked, brow knitted in worry and eyes deeply concerned. There was no answer. He didn't bother knocking again, but dug into the pocket of his jacket, a fine black sweater style coat, but it wasn't there. So, he dug into the deep pocket of the black trousers, eventually pulling out the small key and undid the lock. The room inside was messy. Of course it was, two teenage boys shared it.

Random yaoi mangas and magazines littered the floor, sharing space with National Geographics and old projects, ancient strawberry jam jars filled the room-

-(_Oh, Beyond, honey, we haven't got the money for peanut butter, only jam, here, have a jam butty_)-

- and random other things littered the carpeted floor. A looked around, there were more jam jars than usual. B must be having a bad day, he normally only eats one or two over the course of a day, but when a dozen or so new ones fill the floor...that's a good indication of a mood gone awry. That and B was huddled in the corner, holding his head with his knees up to his chest. Ah. Really bad day.

B never told A of his voices, or of their physical manifestations. No, it would only serve to make things worse for poor A. A didn't know that B knew about the razors hidden in an old Beatles tin, or about the dark, deep scars across his wrists. B wouldn't add another negative thing to A's already pessimistic life view.

"B?" He asked softly, setting his own things by his bed. The dark sheets wrinkled into furrows from the weight of the books, the bed seeming tired. A walked closer to B, stopping at the edge of the blood red bedspread. "B? What's wrong?"

B's tightly shut eyes slowly opened. "N-nothing." He lied, untensing himself slowly to sit normally, looking tired, but his eyes still reflecting the pain inside. A was never the type to pry, so he would accept, but not always believe, B's lies.

"If you say so..." A said doubtfully, sitting down on his bed and pulling out a book. He was reading a copy of Machiavelli's _The Prince_, possibly in hopes of more confidence. B saw his voices standing by A, examining him. _He_ leaned down slightly (he was older, too, than the real B was, looking to be about sixteen or seventeen) to look closer at A, B's breath hitching when A didn't so much as move.

How could people not see them? They were flesh and bone, they could do things. They could stop B from moving, hold him down, oh, there was nothing they could not do but for one; they could not force B to do as they demanded. They had to connive and convince, but they never ruled, though they could sometimes seem to.

_ He_ could change the way things looked, and _he_ would occasionally act kindly towards B. There was a bit of a love-hate relationship there, _he_ would be kind as _he_ tried asking B to do something, then B would refuse. Of course, _he_ didn't like that, and would change objects into monsters, dark slithering shadows with glowing red eyes and large, sharp fangs that would torment B in the dark of the night. But, B had yet to give in to force, no, the things they got him to do so far were minor. Steal a jar of jam, make A do his homework, innocent, little things like that. But _he_ was always striving for more.

B held his breath as _he_ stared at A, then brushed the back of his hand against A's face gently, looking at B the entire time. _You leave him alone!_ B shouted across the mental gap. Beelezebub stood there too, but a small distance away from _him_. He was watching, then looking to B with a smirk, he disappeared.

_ But I want him.__ He_ replied, looking as if hurt. _And if I want something, I take it.__ He_ gave B a smirk that betokened the malicious intent behind the words, then began to slide his hand down A's chest, moving lower, lower, lower. B stopped breathing, eyes horrified. Surely A felt that, surely he would leap up and demand that _he_ stop right NOW.

But when _he_ got to the edge of the trousers A wore, A didn't so much as notice anything wrong. But A did move as if readjusting himself, spreading his legs more to put the book more securely on his knees.

_ He_ grinned at B when he saw A move so. _See? He opens his legs for me, not to balance the stupid book._

_ NO!_ B howled. _A, stop!_ But A went on obliviously. _He _reached lower, slipping underneath the black material. B could see the cloth move to include the foreign object, _he_ was real and _he _was touching A.

A gave a small sound of delight at that moment. _It's a funny part in the book..._ B said, trying to convince himself that was true. But no...it was _him._ He liked _his _touch. _He_ was right, A wanted _him_. Why should B even bother trying to get him to like B? It would fail anyway.

_ He_ perked up at this thought, looking to B with a smile. _Oh, but he'll want you._ _He_ said. _You look just like me. He wants you just the same as he wants me._ _He_ pulled his hand out of A's trousers and glided over to B, stopping at the edge of the bed. B shrank away, trying to hide more securely in the corner.

_ Go on, now. He'll enjoy your touch._ _He_ said. _Just think..._ _He_ put some images in B's mind, mainly of A underneath him, moaning and crying out in pleasure, begging for more. _"B, please! I want you!_" He squirmed, bucking his hips up to try and get more of B.

B's pupils dilated, and his breathing shallowed. That was indeed a tempting sight, and, oh God, but B wanted it! _Good, good. Go for it.__ He_ encouraged.

B stared at A, wanting him badly. _But- but, what if he says no?_ He asked, scared of rejection. _He won't. Don't worry about that._ _He _assured. _Go ahead, tell him. _B stared at _him_, but _he_ just smiled his insane smile, waved, and disappeared. B looked to A, who was reading contentedly. _Ok, I can do this..._

He stood up, calming his shaking. "H-Hey, A?" He asked, voice shaking as much as he wanted to.

A looked up. "Yeah?" He folded down the corner of the book, marking his place and setting it down on a bedside table.

B's voice, his voice, the one he spoke with, seemed to have disappeared too. "Um...I just...I..." **Go sit on his bed.** Came the quiet suggestion, more of a helpful piece of advice than Gabriel's usual asinine bravado. Gabriel was sly, more like a fox than a person, and acted as if he ruled the world. He was quite arrogant too, so such kindly spoken words meant there was something more that B didn't know about.

B obliged and sat down on the corner of A's bed. A looked more interested, but also more confused. "I...um...." **Go up and kiss him. Or get him to come to you and kiss him.** And with that, Gabriel left. It's not like he was completely gone, just more of in the back of B's mind, sitting there. Whenever all three voices were quiet, B knew they were planning something, and it made him uneasy.

B took a deep breath. "Ca- can I ask you something?" He asked. A nodded.

"Of course." He smiled, moving to sit by B, only a few inches away from their thighs touching. B looked to him and his crimson eyes met the soft green. "I-I-..." He trailed off yet again. A tilted his head at B's unusal shyness, curious as well as confused. "What?"

B hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed him softly, his hand reaching up to cup A's face lovingly. After the gentle kiss, B pulled away hurriedly, looking embarrassed and blushing. "I-I'm sorry, I just-"

He was cut off by A leaning forward to kiss him back. B froze; No way could this be real! But A's lips were so soft against his own, the feeling was perfect, it seemed real, at least.

He kissed A back hungrily, and A responded in kind, B putting his arms around A's waist and A placing his on B's shoulders to hold them close. After a long minute, they broke apart to breathe. A looked down, a little pink and fiddling with the folds in his shirt. "So...so are we dating n-now?"

B smiled at A extremely happily. "Yeah. We are."


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Hey! See, I haven't forgotten. It just took a me awhile to write this out. Oh! Before I forget: this fanfiction does NOT follow Beyond Birthday's true life. Most of it is my interpretation of what COULD of happened at Wammy's Orphanage, his life, and in Beyond's head. In my story, his parents' deaths and/or lives are different. In the **real** LABB Murder Cases, it says that his mother was in an train accident or something, and his father was beaten to deaht by thugs. In mine...well, read on to find out, why don't you?

Chapter 3: Without the past, there is no future

B lay in his bed, sleeping. His dreams were dark and twisting, thinking both of the past-

-(_'U-Uncle Yuuki? What are you doing...?'_)-

-and fears-

-(_'Uncle Yuuki? I don't-- I don't think I like this....'_)-

-which, for little Beyond Birthday, are the same.

Fears, ofttimes, are based off of real events. The past that occurs haunts those who experience it deeply. They fear it, and the people connected. This is especially true for traumatic events.

Sometimes, these terrifying events become forgotten; the mind cannot handle them, therefore it must be like it never happened. Abuse at the hand of a loved one, for example, can happen day after day, and the abused will still love the abuser. It is a sad cycle of events, one the abused will forget as soon at the punishing hand turns into the hand of solace and love. The abused instantly forgets the pain and hurt and takes comfort while he may, for he does not know when the abuse will begin again.

But not for little Beyond. He remembered everything-

-(_'Uncle Yuuki? I don't like this. It feels funny, and it hurts. Owie! Uncle Yuuki, stop it!'_)-

-from the day he turned two onward. That year was the saddest, though the three that followed had the same pattern.

He met an Uncle when he turned two, Uncle Yuuki. He remembered his mother introducing them, saying that Uncle Yuuki was fun and would play with him when Mum had to go work. He would take care of him and would make sure he was alright, but Beyond would get to know Uncle Yuuki before Mum left for work.

Uncle Yuuki was tall, and always wore a grey shirt, really really light grey, almost white. The shirt was always new, too. Beyond thought that Uncle Yuuki must have a lot of money. His hair was dark, a deep brown that almost seemed black, but it wasn't. His pants were always a pair of blue jeans, the cheapest clothing. But they weren't too loose, they were fitting correctly.

Eventually, the inevitable day came that Mum had to go to work for the first time, leaving him with Uncle Yuuki. They had played all day, everything from hide-and-seek to tag. It was a very fun day, and Beyond loved his Uncle Yuuki.

That night, everything changed-

-(_'No, no, Uncle Yuuki! That hurts! Stop! STOP!!!'_)-

-but, of course, nobody knew. Beyond was a good child, he always listened to his elders. He wouldn't disobey. He didn't want to be punished-

-(_'Don't tell your mother, boy. I'll kill her. Your mummy's a pretty lady, with soft blond hair like yours...Don't tell her.'_)-

-so he listened like a good boy. He was going to be good.

Uncle Yuuki left once Beyond's mother came back. The next day, Beyond limped a bit, but when asked, he just said he and Uncle Yuuki had "played too hard." Of course, his mother saw nothing the matter with playing and left him be.

This continued every time that Mum left him with Uncle Yuuki. But when Beyond was three, Yuuki stopped buying new shirts everyday. He said he "couldn't afford it." Beyond occasionally saw his shirts before he washed them, and it terrified him. They were covered-- no, doused-- in blood. Yet he never spoke about it.

His mother, on the other hand, was a beautiful woman, with long blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. She often caught the eye of men as she walked down the street. She also had a little medicine box full of prescription medication. She couldn't forget that medicine, she told Beyond one day, or she would loose her son, her love.

_"But why, Mummy?" _He had asked. She sighed. _"Because, honey, the doctors say I need this medicine." _

_"But why?" _

_"Because I see your Daddy sometimes. But he's not really there. They want to make sure I don't hurt anybody." _

_"Ohh...Okay!"_

When Beyond turned five, only a little while after his birthday, he came home from Kindergarden. He was excited; the teacher told him that she had never had such an intelligent child. He excelled past everyone, and he was a great role model, being nice and never hurting anyone. He was a good boy.

He walked home, as always. His school was just a few blocks away from his home, so he was allowed to walk. But he was worried too. His mummy always came to walk with him. She never had waited this long. He had waited with the teacher for a whole hour, then the teacher told him to walk home. She could see his house and she would wait for him to go inside before leaving. Beyond agreed and set off.

He waved to the teacher, a kind redheaded woman who smiled and waved back, leaving in her beat up Toyota. He opened the front door, but everything was quiet. "Mummy?" He called out, setting his bag in the long hallway. "Mummy?"

He walked forward, expecting to see his mum waiting with a new batch of cookies or maybe some cake, to say that she knew he was a good boy and knew he could walk by himself, so she just made the cookies for a surprise, to welcome him as he came home. He turned to his left, into the living room.

"M-um?!" He cried out upon seeing her, then ran to the telephone, calling emergency help. "Mum, the police will help you down!"

-----------------------

A couple of weeks later, Beyond huddled under a thin blanket in an orphanage, the woman who took care of the children nearby and speaking with two policemen.

"Who is he?" She asked, the portly woman doubting the new arrival's name.

"Beyond Birthday, miss." The younger of the two policemen answered. She still looked confused, but just nodded. "He's, ah, the child of the woman who was murdered about a month ago? You know, the last woman killed by that serial murderer who liked blonds and blue-eyes?"

The woman, Mrs. McCorm, shook her head. She didn't really follow the news. It was always too depressing. A few children came up to Beyond, and got him to join in the game of hide-and-seek. He wasn't very enthused; he had changed, but he left the orphanage woman and the policemen alone.

The young policeman looked helplessly to the other. How did he explain this? The more experienced man took over, making the other much more comfortable. "Ma'am, the Birthday woman --Yes, that's really her name--" He said, seeing the look appear on the woman's features, "was murdered about a month ago. The murderer was her brother, Yuuki Tahami. She wasn't his first either. He hung her up after murdering her. But he was caught." The man looked proud.

"Was he now?" Mrs. McCorm asked, putting her hands on her hips. "By who? The police?" She looked as if ready to laugh. The police had never helped her with the poor, abused children that walked through these walls, had never helped with the cries of the hungry, had never punished those who made the children limp.

"L." The policeman said with no little awe. "As soon as there were ten murders, he picked the case up. The next day, Tahami was caught."

The woman looked unconvinced, but decided to leave things be. She had better things to do, like take care of the children. She said good-bye and left to check on the new boy. He was playing, though sad, but that was to be expected. It's alright. Children always bounced back.

----------------------

Beyond woke up in a cold sweat. He remembered Uncle Yuuki, being told that he was a good boy and--

He forced the memories away. It didn't happen. Nobody knew, and nobody would ever know. He looked across the room to A, hoping to feel better upon sight of his boyfriend. But what he saw made him feel like cold water had been poured on him.

A sat on the edge of his bed, a razor put to his left wrist. He held it tightly, so tight his knuckles were white, as if he were afraid that he'd drop it. He jerked it across his wrist, a small hiss of pain escaping his lips. But he didn't look like it hurt. Rather, he looked...pleased. He continued to do this, cut after cut, eventually without the wince of pain. He sighed, seeing the blood beginning to drip from his wrists and pool on a blanket he stole for this very purpose. B was awake, but A didn't know, A's eyes closed with an expression of deep satisfaction.

B's eyes were wide, and his mouth gaped. Sure, he knew, but he never saw it. This...this was madness. It must still be a nightmare, A, B's lovely A wouldn't do that. But he did. Tears rolled down B's face as he buried himself under the covers, trying to hide from the evil in his life.


	4. Chapter 4: Lies, Lies!

Chapter 4: Lies, Lies!

Time passed, the crisp autumn turning the leaves golden and scarlet, then falling to the ground in a glorious display of nature's color. Winter came as well, blanketing the ground in the pure snow of innocence, though quickly dirtied with the children's outdoor games. Beyond stood at his window on the second floor, looking at the sprawling lawns and watching the children play. There were few children inside right now, most were out, but some were studying for some test or simply disliked the outdoors and sat in the library comfortably. The doors to the outside had just been opened moments before and the snow was already a mixture of slush and dirt. _Such beauty,_ Beyond thought to himself, hand on the cream colored curtain, _Ruined so very easily..._

He turned from the large window, letting the curtain swish back into place and cover the view of the outdoors. If only Beyond could join them, but he could not. He had things to do, and none of them involved the cold. He hated the cold bitterly, having been forced to endure it for three years when he lived on the streets. So, he never could understand how snow, such a cold, wet thing, was the subject of fascination to the children. But, to each his own, and Beyond was not about to take away the joy from the young ones.

He walked over to the mahogany desk, the dark, slick wood comforting as he ran his fingers lightly over its surface. The large desk took up a great deal of room in the small space, but it wasn't too bad. Its usefulness more than paid for the slight squeezing that had to be done. He was lucky, though, he and A. They had the largest room, being the first two children brought here. They were being trained to be the new L, once the current died or was otherwise unable to continue his duties. The other children, while intelligent, were nowhere close to A's and B's league.

The others were either orphans who were too intelligent for a normal school and so were taught here, or from an affluent family who wanted their child to be taught by the best. The latter group never heard anything from L nor saw him, not even for a second. They did not need to be here, it was chosen. They were to be taught and then told to leave. There was no ceremony with them, indeed, they were nearly shunned by the orphan children. They had families and lives to go to, the others did not. A and B, actually, being the only two children being considered as becoming the new L, were also the only children to ever meet L.

L came to visit Wammy's about once a year, usually around Christmas-time, so he would be coming soon. Christmas was only a little while away. Beyond looked to the small calender he had hung up by his bed to see the date. December 15th. Yes, L would be here very soon. Perhaps he would be proud of B's new grades. He had actually begun to score higher than A. While normally Beyond would applaud himself for it, he was worried about A.

A had begun to change. He was getting quieter, eating less, and being more and more isolated. He was sinking further in his depression, Beyond was sure of it. He no longer saw his boyfriend as often as he once had, though they were close, very close. They had been together for a good three months now. Beyond sighed, raising his scarlet eyes from the dark wood. Perhaps A was off in the library. Maybe he should pay him a visit and try to cheer him up.

**Oh, we don't want that.** Gabriel said smoothly in his mind, sounding as if this was a boring topic. **He's fine, I'm sure of it. It's just a phase, let him get through it. After all, he is two years older than you. Perhaps he found friends among the older teenagers. He'll be back in no time.**

Beyond frowned, his brow furrowing. _But what if he's...what if he's hurting himself again?_ He sat down in the plush chair in front of the desk, swinging back and forth in the swivel chair, merely to keep moving.

**Well, then, I suppose that's something he should deal with on his own.** Gabriel sounded melancholy. **You don't want to let on that you know, do you? It could make it worse...**

_Oh! Well-- I-- but, what if I can help?_ Beyond asked, thinking quickly and the sad expression on his features fading to be replaced with excitement. _I could get him help, I could make it better. I'm his boyfriend, doesn't he trust me?_ He asked rhetorically, hoping.

Gabriel gave Beyond a mental assertion that he was correct. **Indeed. We both know that he trust you implicitly. However, if he has not told you what it bothering him, therefore, it is nothing. People do deserve personal privacy, correct?** He asked.

Beyond's frown returned. _Well, yeah... But--_

**No 'buts,' Beyond. Either you trust that he trusts you and you leave him be to deal with his problems on his own, or you do not and you search him out, letting him know that you do NOT trust him.** Gabriel said quickly, making his point well and concise.

_I..._ Beyond could not refute Gabriel. He was right. A could deal with it on his own. After all, he was first in line to be L, surely he could deal with this easily! Gabriel gave Beyond a feeling of smugness. **Good boy. Now, I must be running, but do tell if something happens.**

Beyond nodded, and Gabriel's awareness faded to a dull murmur in the back of his mind, much like _him_ and Beelzebub. Beyond frowned, bringing his elbow to rest on the desk and his chin on his palm. He sighed, biting his lip. Gabriel may be right, but it couldn't stop Beyond from worrying.

Beelzebub walked over to B, having gazed out the window as well. Today, he wore more Elizabethan attire, with buckled shoes and what looked like tights along with a black, tailored tunic. He even had a white ruff at the collar that spilled over his chest. Beyond glared. Of course. Belzebub had to intercede in this conversation. He never could leave anything alone, could he?

_No, of course not!_ Beelzebub said cheerfully. _It would be far too boring. Anyhow,_ He went on haughtily and smirking, turning to look at the door. His hair, today, was slicked back, the platinum blond so white as to shine nearly silver. _If you like, I can go check around for you. I'll find out where he is and if he's alright._ He offered.

Beyond's eyes narrowed. "And I would believe you why?"

_Because, my little living pessimism, I never lie to you. You know that._ Beelzebub assured him. _Stretch the truth, maybe, but lie? Never._ He looked as if Beyond would insult him if he claimed otherwise.

Beyond looked around the dirty room, kicking at a National Geographic for lack of something better to do and buy time. "Well, I guess..."

Beelzebub smiled, looking like a joyful child given a sweet. _I'll be back in a little while._ B watched as he walked to the door, opened it and left, with a soft _snick_ as the door closed after himself.

B waited for about a half hour, then Beelzebub slid through the door like smoke, returning. He looked pale, even paler than normal and his features held concern and worry. Beyond was instantly suspicious. "What?" Beyond asked, eyes narrowed.

Beelzebub drew himself up in insult. _I was merely trying to help you. If you don't want to know, so be it._ He sniffed aristocratically, then made as if to leave. Bey leapt to his feet and grabbed Beelzebub's arm. "No, wait, I'm sorry." Beelzebub freed himself delicately from Beyond's grip then nodded with grace.

_Alright._ He sniffed, superior. _You may want to check the front hall, the large greeting room, I mean._ Beyond's eyes grew wide. What could of happened to his precious A?!

_I'd hurry along now if I were you._ Beelzebub reminded him softly. Beyond was out the door in a second, skidding through the hall, down the flight of stairs to barge into the front hall. It was large and gracious, meant to impress. The ceiling was high, about twenty feet high, or even more. There was a fancy spiral staircase to the lower floors. Beyond was currently on the third and highest level of the mansion. The decor was nice but definitely costly, certainly much more than a pretty penny went into this. The staircase itself had a rug of scarlet with golden threads making a pleasant pattern in the material, but Beyond didn't look at that. Beyond leapt forward, trying to see what Beelzebub had meant.

A moment later, Beyond stopped dead cold, eyes fixed on the ceiling. A chandelier was there, very nice with crystal arrangements instead of candles, merely there to look pretty. However, his crimson eyes saw more than the shining stones, traveling down a rope tied to the chandelier itself. Beyond glanced to the floor to confirm; a tall ladder lay there, abandoned. On the other side of the rope, hanging and revolving slowly, was A.

Beyond stared in shock, mind in overdrive so much that it merely stopped. His heart beat fast and he was tense, but his mouth hung open in a O of horror. As Beyond found his boyfriend, the door to the mansion opened, L had arrived. He went to salute B in greetings, as was expected, but paused, seeing the boy's face. He followed the boy's gaze, then he too froze. L, while having seen many gruesome and gory murders in photographs, had never seen a real death. He stared, onyx eyes widening. Watari followed L, as usual, then saw A. After a moment of silence, he reached for his cell phone.

"Roger, get medics. Now."

-----------------------------------

_It's your fault. You didn't care enough, you didn't save him._

_Oh, little B, look what you've done! Aren't you proud of the death you caused?_

_Your fault, your fault!_

**Beyond, you mustn't listen to them, you had no idea! It was an accident, nothing more.**

_Your fault...you could of saved him..._

_You did this...You!_

_You! You killed A! Look at what you did!_

**Beyond, no! Beelzebub and **_**he**_** are lying to you! You never could of known!**

_You-_

_Killer!_

_You hurt-_

**No!**

_Murderer!_

_All your fault...All your fault!_

_A died because of YOU._

**No, no!**

_You! Backup, you couldn't even save your boyfriend!_

**Lies! Lies!**

_Truth!_

Beyond howled to the sky, breaking his three day silence, breaking his stiff curling pose_,_ stood, and he howled to the sky his grief. "I'm sorry!" He cried out. "I'm sorry..."


	5. Chapter 5: The Lie's Mockery

Author's Note: Thanks to my reviewers, few though you be. You really make me happy. I haven't gotten a single bad review or cruel comments, just criticism and such. Thanks so much. We're nearing the middle or so of the story, according to my plan, I think, though, of course, I could be completely wrong. xD Anyhow, read and tell me what you think, please!

Chapter Five: The Lie's Mockery

Beyond mourned his lover for quite some time, becoming quiet and depressed. He spoke little, only when was needed and barely focused on anything but his schoolwork. It was as though he tried to distract himself from his grief by working on his homework more than ever before. He could be seen in the library past midnight, even, working on some essay or particularly difficult problem. His work quality jumped dramatically within that time and he turned in essays and theses worthy of a senior in college, and occasionally higher. However, for every moment he worked, there was a moment of painful thought.

It could be argued that Beyond should have seen A's death coming and thus been prepared, however, death is not something that one may prepare himself for. He certainly knew of A's death date with the shinigami eyes, however, it was more likely the abrupt nature of death that made it difficult to deal with. He had mourned his mother much the same way; though he knew the date and time, it was still difficult. Even once A's death had occurred and long since past, B's voices had not allowed Beyond to forget it. They made it seem as if Beyond could stop it, had he only done the correct things, as if the death date and count was reversible if treated properly. By B's own admission, it was his fault that A had died.

About a month after A's death, B showed little signs of improvement, and was sent to a psychiatrist. The woman diagnosed him with depression and gave him the appropriate medicine, however, it did not help, making her diagnosed affliction seem incorrect. He was sent to a new woman with more experience, especially throughout his fifteenth year....

-------------

"...And now, dear, tell me what you see." Beyond stared listlessly at the ruby-red hair of the woman sitting in front of him. He was sitting on a plush lazyboy chair, though his knees were up and he had his arms wrapped around them tightly, as if he were hugging himself. He shook his head, scarlet eyes looking dull and rested his head on his knees. His hair was greasy and coarse, looking rather ratty. Beyond had ceased caring for his appearance. Gabriel was silent, however, Beelzebub was not, nor was _he_.

_Oh, Beyond, don't tell the lady about us._ Beelzebub said cheerily. _We'll have to punish you if you do that._ He said, sitting next to Beyond on his right with right leg over left, hands out on his knees in a bright motion. His clothing, this time, was back to the aristocratic, eighteenth century gothic. It was basically gothic lolita clothing, though that style was not well known yet. His platinum hair was falling into his eyes in a precise manner, as though each strand had been individually selected out.

_Indeed...Punishment sounds like an excellent idea. Perhaps we should give the woman what she wishes. What say you, Gabriel?_ _He_ said, his crimson hues looking delighted at the prospect. His dark, brown-black hair was thicker than normal and seemed tousled, as though _he_ had fought with somebody. _He_ leaned forward in his seat on Beyond's other side, licking his lips. _We could give her the insanity she searches for._ _He_ was amused.

**Guys, I'm not so sure...** Gabriel said in a insecure tone. Beyond never saw Gabriel, merely heard his voice. Of the three, Beyond trusted Gabriel the most and _him_ the least. Gabriel was always on Beyond's side or tried to help him, putting up a tough fight, though he usually lost. He was sly and manipulative, but never against Beyond. He was Beyond's friend. **I don't want Beyond to have to take medicine he doesn't want.**

Beyond shook slightly, unable to stop the emotions of the three from ripping throughout his body as they spoke, in turn feeling mischievous, amused, and melancholy, then back to his own depression. He sighed, ignoring the kind woman. They had been taking more and more control lately, making him feel things he didn't feel, scaring Beyond out of his wits. He would find himself doing things he had not planned, and suddenly stop in the middle of an action he had not wanted to do to begin with, though it had seemed like his own idea at the start.

"Backup?" The woman, whose name Beyond had not bothered to learn, asked. She saw his shivers, saw how his head turned ever so slightly to the left and right, then shook again. There was something there, she was sure of it. She was from America and new to the job at Wammy's, though she was well respected back in the States as one of the best in her field. She had been brought in recently to help children deal with grief, but she had given Wammy himself notes of possible mental problems within a few of the children, thus getting a permanent job.

"Backup, what do you see? What do you hear?" Beyond merely curled tighter into a ball.

"I hear nothing. I see nothing." He lied, tears leaking from tightly closed eyes, hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block the voices from winding their way into his mind.

_Oh, but why lie, Beyond? Little Beyond, little Beyond, fear not. Go on, tell her. I shan't hurt you. Besides, you're just a backup.__ He_ said softly in Beyond's ear, making Beyond jump slightly in surprise. Naomi Swartz (for that was the psychiatrist's name) made a note on her pad about it. Beyond refused, however, giving a tiny shake of his head.

Naomi bit her lip. This was more difficult than she had faced before, but she would not give up. After all, smarter kids have smarter problems that require smarter answers. It made sense. Her file said that his mother had been schizophrenic, so she believed that was the problem. However, it also said that a medical examination of the boy when first brought to Wammy's had revealed that he had been sexually abused for quite a long time, and although his mother had problems, there was no suspicion cast upon her. Instead, although it could not be proven, the bulk of the belief was that his uncle Yuuki, the murderer of Beyond's mother, had raped him for years.

There was a possibility of diagnosis there. Beyond was eight when he was brought to Wammy's, but had been on the streets for three years by his own words. His account of his life said that he had met Yuuki when he was either three or four, though the specific dates were blurry. But that was fine, it was quite some time ago. Either way, it meant that Yuuki was with Beyond for either one or two years before killing Beyond's mother, easily enough time to rape the boy enough to leave physical evidence of it as scarring. As a child, Beyond would not report his uncle, as he was likely told by his mother –who never knew– that his uncle was a good man, plus most children believe it was a punishment that they earned.

Naomi crossed her legs, unknowingly mimicking Beelzebub in the motion, and rested her elbow on her knees, head on her hand in thought. She allowed Beyond to remain silent, trawling through his file in contemplation, flicking through the numerous pages. Children also formed their most lasting relationships then and how they viewed the world, so, Beyond, like it or not, had an extremely deep connection with Yuuki. It could, Naomi thought in a sudden burst of inspiration and sitting up straight, affect how he viewed the world...and thereby, affect his mind. By affecting his mind and world viewpoint, Beyond's mind could possibly morph the subconscious desire for his Uncle to be around, the wish to be wanted and loved the only way he knew it, _into a permanent hallucination of Yuuki!_

Naomi scribbled furiously in her notebook, writing down all this thought and speculation, taking a good five minutes, then set her book aside with fresh determination. She was bright-eyed and ready to tackle this problem from a new angle. "Backup, can I ask you something?"

Beyond gave no indication either way for a moment, though _he_ and Beelzebub looked interested. _Oooohh, ask us something, will she?__ He_ laughed darkly. _ I wonder what it'll be this time? I do wonder what she wrote down as well..._

_Perhaps the same drivel in another form?_ Beelzebub cackled, looking highly amused. Gabriel merely pouted in the back of Beyond's mind, feeling pointless. He could not help Beyond here.

Beyond nodded, untangling himself from the tight ball and sitting normally, albeit in a defensive, insecure pose, looking as though he was ready to run from the room and tears budding within the scarlet hues. "Yeah...go ahead," He sighed. It wasn't going to be anything intelligent, he believed. There was nobody who _he_ could not outsmart, nobody _he_ could not defeat. _He_ could even outwit L.

"Tell me about...Yuuki." Beyond's crimson hues widened and his head jerked up from his position, looking terrified. His pupils dilated, turning his eyes black as he remembered things, terrible things–

(_'No, no! Uncle Yuuki, stop! Please! Please...'_)

–but Beyond forced it away. It was the past, nobody knew, nobody would ever know.

"He– He's just an uncle." Beyond replied, looking down and bringing his knees up again. _How did she know? Will she know? What will happen?_

_Beyond, you realize that such a question deserves a truthful answer.__ He_ mocked Beyond, standing right in front of the teenager. His hair was mussed and before Beyond's eyes, _he_ changed ever so slightly, just a tiny detail here and there. His hair lightened and swept back a little, the shirt darkened by the same amount, turning a pale grey, and got tighter. _He_ gave the grin, the one Yuuki always wore before night came and Beyond's mother had just left, the one that always sent a chill through Beyond's spine. Beyond stared horrified at the mockery of Yuuki, mouth agape and unable to say anything. He did, however, manage one thing; a piercing scream.

Naomi jumped to her feet, then turned to see Beyond terrified out of his mind. The look of horror would never be forgotten from Naomi's mind, and she made a mental vow to never ever allow a child to be hurt so badly to see that look again. He, apparently, was seeing what Naomi had predicted, though something within the boy's mind had changed. Had it allowed him to see what the hallucination had truly become, what it really was? He did see something and that fact was indisputable.

A few residents of Wammy's peeked their head in the room, some of the richer children looking interested. Naomi rushed them out as Beyond's breath ran low and his scream failed him, though he was still hysterical. His small chest rose and fell rapidly with his heaving breaths, eyes dilated from fear to be utterly black with no hint of red around the edges of his large pupils. He shook his head, then shook it harder, as though trying to dislodge the sight from his mind, cowering. He bowed his head, shaking, and put his head on his knees, face-down and placed his arms around his head.

Naomi rushed the peeking children out, closing the door, then pulled out her cell phone, dialing the number of Mr. Wammy's office. A ring, then it was picked up by an unfamiliar voice with a light English accent and a faint melodic lilt of a Japanese accent. "Ms. Swartz?" The male asked, the voice confident and sure, though Naomi had never heard it before. "Wammy's Office. What is the nature of the emergency to call this number?"

Naomi froze; should she tell the unknown male? But then again, if Wammy trusted him enough to answer the phone, he was fine, she supposed. "Backup collapsed after screaming when I asked him about Yuuki."

There was silence. After a moment, the same male voice answered. "Ms. Swartz made a very amateur mistake in dealing with the psyche of emotionally wounded children." Another pause. "But I suppose mistakes are made. Ms. Swartz's continued employment is uncertain. Ms. Swartz will bring Backup to Mr. Wammy's office on the first floor, the door to the immediate right of the front door." There was a click of the phone call disconnecting, leaving Naomi to stare at the phone in confusion.

"Al...right...." She mumbled, setting it down in her purse, then glanced to Beyond. He was still out, certainly retreating to his subconscious if not totally unconscious. She was not a large or particularly strong woman, so this would be a challenge if it came down to having to carry him. She approached Beyond cautiously, then stood by him. His eyes were wide open and tears poured from the scarlet hues, pupils slightly reduced in size, though still abnormally large. She touched his shoulder without response, then shook his lightly. "Backup, we need to go to Mr. Wammy's office."

Beyond immediately sat up, though he looked as if he hadn't even heard her, then stood, tears stopping. His eyes looked dead and distant, as though Beyond was no longer there. He waited, and as she took a step, he mimicked her. She led the way to the office, followed closely by the boy. She went to knock on the door, but before her hand was anywhere near the fine wooden barrier, it swung open to reveal a rather peculiar individual.

His hair was similar to Beyond's, though without the harsh coloring of false dye, his eyes black with dark undercircles. "Please enter." He moved aside, hunched over and biting his thumbnail, intelligent onyx eyes appraising Beyond's status. "Mr. Wammy shall return in a moment." He added as though it was of no interest, then turned away from the two and began picking through the sweet tray laying on Wammy's desk.

Naomi stared, wanting to appraise this man to find out the nature of his mind, but shook her head. "Should I st-"

"Leave." The man, more boy, Naomi noted, replied to her without turning. Naomi stared, but merely stared. "Now." He added in a slightly more commanding tone, though he sounded amused at her reluctance, sticking a candy in his mouth without a thought.

Naomi stared, and just then, Mr. Wammy himself entered. "Ms. Swartz, please give me your information on this matter." The other male within the room shot Wammy a look that Naomi could not identify, and left via another door. She stared after him, then turned back to the older gentleman with a confused look.

"He's merely an older child without a home. I provide him with necessities and he solves crimes." Naomi listened, then shrugged. Whatever worked worked, she supposed. She sat down within a nearby chair, Beyond following suit in the chair's mate next to her, bringing his knees up and burying his face as she began to outline what had happened and her diagnosis. Afterward, Mr. Wammy glanced to Beyond, then nodded.

"Accurate to a fault. Well done." She nodded, pleased that somebody acknowledged her work. "We will begin him with treatment for his affliction. In the meantime, please stay and take care of the other children."

Naomi was puzzled. "But he said–"

"Nothing worth listening to." Mr. Wammy interrupted without a thought, waving away what the man had said to confuse her. "Don't worry about him. He's a troublemaker and a mischievous brat at times." She nodded assent, then stood to leave with Mr. Wammy's blessing. She was sure that she had done her best with Backup now that he had a diagnosis.

Quillish Wammy interlaced his fingers, looking down to the boy before him. "Oh, Backup...What problems you have..."

--------

Beyond was put in a regime of pills for his schizophrenia, although, no matter how well they worked, it would take time, he was told, up to six months for the full effect. He took his first pill that night, then lay down to sleep, coming back to himself slightly since the shock, though still jumpy. He curled up in the bed, seeing the empty bed across from him that used to hold A, then flipped around to face the wall, laying on his left side, knees up sightly and covers to his chin.

A few moments later, he felt the bed move down as though another sat upon it and flipped over to his back, eyes wide. It was _him_. _Hush, hush._ _He_ cooed. _I merely need a place to sleep._ _He_ slid into the bed next to a terrified Beyond, waiting for Beyond to give up some room for him. A moment later, Beyond did as he was told, moving closer to the wall. Beyond closed his eyes, trying to will him away and turned away, facing the wall once more. _He_ wasn't there, Beyond tried convincing himself. It was all fake.

Beyond yelped in surprise when he felt _his_ touch, pulling Beyond closer and bringing Beyond's back flush with his chest in what seemed a comforting embrace. _Relax, pet, it'll all be fine..._ _He _whispered lightly in Beyond's ear when the boy tensed up, running his hand through Beyond's hair like he was comforting the boy.

_Pet? _Beyond though, blood running icy cold. That was what...It was what Yuuki always called him. And _he_ looked like Yuuki... "U-Uncle Yuuki?" Beyond asked fearfully, voice almost inaudible, but _he_ heard. Beyond was terrified of the answer, but he had to know, needed to know if his nights were to be terrible once more.

_Oh, no. Better than that. I'm BB.__ He_ replied in Beyond's ear, right hand sliding up Beyond's side and making him twitch. _Pretty soon...you will be too._


	6. Chapter 6: Why?

**Chapter Six: Why?**

Beyond's eyes opened, yawning deeply before he turned to glance across the room to the empty bed. Scarlet hues blinked, but then decided that it just was what it was-- an empty bed and nothing more. He sat up, stretching a bit before standing and dressing in simple clothing. He changed his wardrobe that day, though; a grey shirt and more form-fitting jeans. Yes, it was a much better match.

He picked up his bookbag, glancing over the homework for a moment before ignoring it and setting it within the bag. He flung it over his shoulder and left the room. A few moments later, he sat within his first period class, the only one there, since he was very early. He brought out his work and finished up what he had not done the night before, then waited.

Patience was rewarded when the next student walked in the room with an apprehensive shiver. Being early in a school classroom was always a creepy experience, after all, and being one of the youngest students did not help. The boy sat down, curling up in a ball and took out a book to read-- _The Prince_ by Machiavelli. Beyond's lip quirked into a smirk; how fitting.

By the time the teacher arrived, the rest of the students had as well. The boy, a lesser letter, merely R, was shaking as if he were sick. After an hour into the class, he was. He vomited violently over the smart board when he went up to solve a problem, his pale skin even whiter than snow. Beyond yawned in back, unsurprised by the turn of events, having propped himself back on the chair to have his feet on the desk. He merely glanced R's way before returning to look at paper he held. The teacher rushed the boy to the infirmary, dismissing the rest of the class to do as they pleased with the rest of the class period.

The male stretched leisurely, putting away his books and other such objects into his back. He stood, letting fall the chair back to its four legs, then slouched his back as he left the room, like most of his classmates. However, unlike his classmates, he was utterly bored.

Classwork? Boring. Homework? Still more so. Essays, mathematical formulas, physics experiments, all were just so _useless_ that it was not worth BB's notice. Ah, but there were a few things that were taught at the school that interested him-- psychology, for example. Expecially the psychology of traumatic events. Oh, interesting, interesting, but hardly enough to base a career on, oh no, he had bigger plans.

He shifted the bag from his back to lay it down in his room, scarlet eyes gleaming as he turned his gaze to a mirror. A smirk crawled across his features, sharply contrasting with the abnormally thin face and the once kind eyes, a flicker of insanity behind the crimson and the smile. _Tonight, I shall take my place as the greatest detective._ He decided, tiring of his name, Backup. What a condesending name, besides. Honestly. Plus, if he were to become great, he must do great things. He giggled slightly, pulling a jar of strawberry jam from the small dorm fridge and scooping a bit out to lick it from his fingers. _Oh, yes, tonight is quite the perfect night._

He waited patiently and serenely for the time to act.

----- That night, approximately Twelve Midnight---

"Aiii!" The cry was forced from L's lips as he slammed against the wall of his room, unable to see the assailant for lack of light within the gloomy area, lit only by the glow of a computer monitor, and weak at that, as it only worked with DOS and the green type was not the best to illuminate anything. "What the he--" His mouth was immediately covered by a thin hand in a glove, instantly removing the option of biting, as, through such a glove as was currently over his mouth, it would not harm the other.

"Hussshh, little, lovely, Lawli..." BB murmured sweetly in L's ear, causing the older male to shake once with surprise. Sure, B had said 'Lawli' before, turning it into a title of respect, but never in such a cold, mocking tone. BB sounded far more adult than most adults L knew, and the feeling of ice was palpable. "Hush, hush..."

BB let his trembling hand travel the length of L's body over the loose clothing, smiling psychotically to himself. Oh, the night had come, yes it had, and it was going to be just _perfect_. The damn boy who claimed sovreignity over most of the population of the earth, the arrogant little **fuck**was going to get exactly what he deserved. It was so frustrating, hearing the older prattle about justice and its importance-- oh, justice was nice, surely, but not all. No no no, _revenge_ was far sweeter, and it was time that L paid for the death he had caused. A's death.

Oh, sweet A, little Andrew, poor poor boy. Had L not chosen him for his cruel games, his mocking offer of detective work if he only achieved a little more, pushed himself just a little more, after all, who cared of the feelings for the replacement? Nobosy, that's who, and even less attention had been paid to B. So wrong, oh yes, so very very wrong, and it had to be corrected. Yes yes yes, the time had come.

"Lawli, Lawli, tender skin, ebony eyes, what do you know of the world, hm? You're so spoiled, you are, by Watari, so far removed from the real world itself that you cannot understand how to feel, how to care, and what it feels like to be pushed aside, do you? No, you don't, because you are L, because you are the one boy who can command a nation to move at your whim." BB kept up a running monologue as he forced L's hands to the wall, holding the others hips to the hard wall by matching their hips.

L, however, did not cry out, even though every muscle in his body, every instict was urging him to let loose a primal scream of fear and desperation, but he could not. He knew the consequence in the boy's eyes, he saw the madness so often hidden now at the forefront of the vermilion color. Beyond's eyes were almost hypnotizing, in a way, with such mystery to them that it made L shiver and his hair rise on end.

BB finished his mumbling, and in a movement too swift for L to react to, a butcher knife was at his throat, the hilt in Beyond's right hand, keen edge to the rapidly pulsing beat in L's throat, the small tremor of the veins making the knife shudder as the life pumped through the male's body. This friction opened a small cut on L's neck, the tiny wound the first pain he had felt in such a long that that L could not help the whimper that fell form his lips.

BB's eyes were immediately up with all the wisdom and ferocity L would imagine dragons to posess, a wwild tenacity to live and rid their lives of anything not worth the groudn it stepped upon. Involuntarily and to prevent his fall to the earth, L brought his legs up around Beyond's waist, one hand at his side, free, but his right still pinned to the wall. Onyx hues met blood-colored, and a whisper was heard.

"Why, Backup?"

BB whirled into furious motion, spinning about to fling L to his own bed before leaping upon him and pinning the male down once more in much the same style, but L was upon his back this time. Ire flashed within the red, making L flinch. "Why?" He asked softly. "Why? Because you killed Andrew. Because you let thousands who could use your help die because their cases do not interest you. Because you make toys of boys and girls who wish to follow you, to be you. And Lawli, Lawli, Lawliet, I shan't be your pet." He giggled at his unintended rhyme.

L could do nothing but stare at the insane boy atop him, realizing that, for the first time, he might just die that night, and there was no wit, no clever response that he could make to change that. It was entirely dependant upon BB. L's control over the world did not extend to the mad, and such a swift loss of control made L shiver with fear.

BB was immediately contrite, brushing a gentle hand down L's face and cooing an apology. "I'm sorry, really, I am, but Justice needs to be served too... and your due is long past its day of reckoning." He let a shrill laugh pass through his lips, the malice so sharp that L felt as though he had been cut.

"Oh, no, no, you'll be my toy, now, to use when I want when I am L. No. No. When I am **B**, for L is a past and I don't want to be just another, do I? No, I want the owlrd to see me, to see that I am better than you by far." He let the tip of the knife glide over L's skin and through the shirt, the soft cottom parting like a hot knife through butter, leaving pale skin exposed to Beyon'd sinful touch.

"Backup, you mustn't do this." L said in a surprisingly firm, strong voice, as though this did not faze him. It was because it was just Beyond, just little Backup, oh, how BB knew it and how he hated it.

"I shall do as I please." He answered simply, then, with a harsh motion, tugged down L's trousers to let them fall to the floor, then followed with the boxers. BB smiled upon seeing the full glory of L, a predatory look of a shark choosing where best to attack, what route would be most satesfactory. A moment later, he made up his mind and undid his own zipper of his jeans, freeing himself.

L's eyes instantly widened in fear. "Backup, stop this!" He snapped. "Stop this moment right _now!_" He attempted to pull back, but, from long hours of sitting and rare excercise, the younger easily halted this train of thought and L's movements.

"You are done Lawli," BB giggled, flipping the knife so that the blade was pointing down. "So, so done. Your arrogance ends here!" He stabbed down as he covered L's mouth to muffle the scream of fear and pain-- but the knife was merely a distraction. It thudded harmlessly into the pillow as BB moved deeply within L, showing him just how useful he was; just a little fuck who got what he deserved.

At first, L struggled. But eventually, his struggles ceased as his eyes glazed over, trying to imagine he were somewhere else, anywhere else at all, Hell would be better, yes, even Hell. Fire was nothing compared to the burning pain, the blood, the stench of sweat in his nostrils that let him know exactly what was happening. He no longer moved, putting every bit of his mind into his fantasyworld.

After BB was content with the trauma he had done to the elder, let him see just how it felt to feel like nobody knew anything, that there would always been a dark side that would be there, a little souvenir of BB was needed. He pulled the knfie and himself from the limp male, and after a cursory cleaning of blood, put himself away, and contemplated. After a short time, he decided.

With the knife tip, he carefully, oh so carefully, drew an elaborate calligraphy B upon L's inner thigh-- lost in his mind, L did not feel it nor react. BB leaned down to whisper in L's unresponsive ear, knowing full well that as much as L denided it, he heard BB. "You are mine, and nobody shall ever take you without knowing me." He swiped a hand through the blood seeping from the deep cuts, licking it for a moment. He smiled, pulling the knife back-- after all, who needed to know L anymore? He was useless, he was broken-- oh, haha, B for Broken~!-- and he should rid the world of his miserable self.

Before the knife could pierce skin to get to his heart, the door opened to reveal the sillhouette of Watari. BB's head snapped to stare, pupils contracting harshly to match the blood upon the white sheets. It was over. He cursed before running to the window as the oldest man rushed to L's side with the lantern, shaking him furiously to try and get a response. At the windowsill, BB looked back to survey the ruins he had made only to meet Watari's gaze. For a second, he felt grief-stricken and humbled as well as guilty, but it passed as soon as a smile graced his bloodless lips.

"Backup!" Watari cried with pure anger, but before he could stand, Beyond was gone like a phantom of the night. His task was done. Not completely, no, but enough. Yes. He was done enough.

As BB wandered the ground back to his room and grabbed a jar, then leapt the fence and headed out, never to return to Whammy's, BB thought. His plan was ruined, and though it mussed all his plans, it was no bother.

As day began to break over the horizon, pinks and oranges beginning to shine through light clouds, BB smiled, a new course of action plotted. _If I may not be he best detective this world has ever had, then I shall be the greatest criminal that there ever was._ He nodded to himself, agreeing with this train of thought. But for now, for now, he had to plan, and to leave England. He'd be too known too easily. Perhaps... to the United States? A large city? Yes.

BB hummed a tuneless melody as he walked aimlessly and calmly through over rocks that tore his unclad feet, uncaring of the bushed of the surrounding forest that tore his shirt, caring only ti make sure that the stash of money he had swiped did not fall from his pocket. After a few hours and some contriving, he stood newly cothed in the London airport in line for a ticket. Eventually, it was his turn. He set the precise amount of money for his flight before he looked to the cheery receptionist.

"I need a ticket to L.A."


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Beyond Birthday was never heard from again until July 22, 2002 when he began the Los Angeles Murders.

These accounts are the most complete compilations of Beyond's life that it is possible to have, and these shall never be given to the public. Not to save my own pride, but because there is no need for the public to know. To the casual civilian, Beyond Birthday shall remain a curious man, insane and a murderer, but they shall never know the complexity of his life.

He died of a heart attack on January 21, 2004 in a California state prison during his life sentence. Beyond was buried in England in a small cemetary nearby Whammy's House. May peace be granted to the boy who lost himself to ambition and greed. Indeed. May peace eventually be granted to myself, and hopefully I shall lose my fear of mirrors. But for now, I must busy myself with the Kira case.

THE END


End file.
